Best Served Cold (1/1)
anonymous
January 12 2009, 14:11:11 UTC
A/N: it's short and kind of crappy and suspend-your-disbelief-y, but I really wanted to give psycho!Latvia a shot :)
"Hello, Russia." Russia spun around wildly, fear clutching at his heart like a vise. The frosty voice was unfamiliar to him, but that much ice couldn't possibly be good. If anyone knew that, it was him. To his surprise, he saw Latvia sitting on his kitchen sink. Sunshine filtered through his fair hair like a halo, soft and blond as ever, but the look on his face was far from the cherubic expression Russia was used to. Had been. "Latvia..How..how did you get in?" "I climbed up the pipes," said Latvia. He spoke louder now, Russia noted, through his confusion. "Oh, I used to go down them a lot. I'm kind of a pro at breaking and entering by now. Escape too. Maybe I should thank you for that." "Oh," said Russia blankly. "Or maybe not," said Latvia, and flew at Russia's face.
Through the barrage of punches and kicks and vicious scratches that followed, Latvia kept talking intermittently. "You sick fuck-" "If you only knew-" "How much-" "You probably did know-" "But you did it anyway-" "I. HATE. YOU. SO. MUCH." "That's all in the past now," gasped Russia, blood trickling out of the side of his mouth, "Times were different. It's all over." "Maybe for you," said Latvia, carelessly. Russia realized he had gotten off him, because he could actually breathe and the blows had stopped, but he was still lying prone on the floor and couldn't see what his former ward was doing. The short, shallow breaths and the muttering and rattling noises in the background told him as much. "What are you doing?" "Shut up." Then he felt an enormous weight on his chest. "Maybe it's over for you, Motherland dearest" said Latvia, "but it's never over for me. You maimed me the way I am. And after I'm done here, I'm going to do my damnedest to rise above the horror and start fresh. Right now I am coming right-down-to-your-level-and-giving-you-what-you-deserve." Russia felt a familiar material being twisted around his neck. "Good night, Russia," said Latvia sweetly, and squeezed centuries of oppression and misery around Russia's neck through the faucet.
*
"So that bow you have on is really nice, Natty." "Uh. Thanks," said Belarus. Compliments came so rarely, accepting them wasn't quite her forte. Then she spotted an area she was much more familiar with, and started waving frantically. "Big brother! Big brother!" "Ah, Russia!" said Latvia, sunnily, and raised his hand in greeting. Russia took one look at them through the eye that wasn't ringed in blue, decided he was in Hell, and legged it back from where he had come. "Poor Russia," Belarus sighed, "so much stress." "Indeed," said Latvia, and smiled.
"Hello, Russia."
Russia spun around wildly, fear clutching at his heart like a vise. The frosty voice was unfamiliar to him, but that much ice couldn't possibly be good. If anyone knew that, it was him.
To his surprise, he saw Latvia sitting on his kitchen sink. Sunshine filtered through his fair hair like a halo, soft and blond as ever, but the look on his face was far from the cherubic expression Russia was used to. Had been.
"Latvia..How..how did you get in?"
"I climbed up the pipes," said Latvia. He spoke louder now, Russia noted, through his confusion. "Oh, I used to go down them a lot. I'm kind of a pro at breaking and entering by now. Escape too. Maybe I should thank you for that."
"Oh," said Russia blankly.
"Or maybe not," said Latvia, and flew at Russia's face.
Through the barrage of punches and kicks and vicious scratches that followed, Latvia kept talking intermittently.
"You sick fuck-"
"If you only knew-"
"How much-"
"You probably did know-"
"But you did it anyway-"
"I. HATE. YOU. SO. MUCH."
"That's all in the past now," gasped Russia, blood trickling out of the side of his mouth, "Times were different. It's all over."
"Maybe for you," said Latvia, carelessly. Russia realized he had gotten off him, because he could actually breathe and the blows had stopped, but he was still lying prone on the floor and couldn't see what his former ward was doing. The short, shallow breaths and the muttering and rattling noises in the background told him as much.
"What are you doing?"
"Shut up."
Then he felt an enormous weight on his chest.
"Maybe it's over for you, Motherland dearest" said Latvia, "but it's never over for me. You maimed me the way I am. And after I'm done here, I'm going to do my damnedest to rise above the horror and start fresh. Right now I am coming right-down-to-your-level-and-giving-you-what-you-deserve."
Russia felt a familiar material being twisted around his neck.
"Good night, Russia," said Latvia sweetly, and squeezed centuries of oppression and misery around Russia's neck through the faucet.
*
"So that bow you have on is really nice, Natty."
"Uh. Thanks," said Belarus. Compliments came so rarely, accepting them wasn't quite her forte. Then she spotted an area she was much more familiar with, and started waving frantically.
"Big brother! Big brother!"
"Ah, Russia!" said Latvia, sunnily, and raised his hand in greeting.
Russia took one look at them through the eye that wasn't ringed in blue, decided he was in Hell, and legged it back from where he had come.
"Poor Russia," Belarus sighed, "so much stress."
"Indeed," said Latvia, and smiled.
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